


The Second First Time

by justbygrace



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 05:59:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8359906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justbygrace/pseuds/justbygrace
Summary: Bartender AU





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was apparently another prompt fic? I don't remember anything about that tbh.

John glanced up at the sound of the pub's door slamming open, jumping slightly and nearly spilling van Statten's whiskey. He watched as Rose Tyler came storming in, kicking the door shut behind her, throwing her keys and purse on the counter, and promptly bursting into tears. The other patrons hardly glanced up from their drinks. It was not that they didn't care - it was just that it was near to midnight on a Saturday night and at that point, most of them no longer could. John cared though, cared more than he should about some young woman he only saw twice a month, a woman whose secrets he had learned only after too many vodka and cranberries. 

He made his way towards her carefully. "What can I get you?"

She looked up at him, desperately wiping the tears away. "Something to help me forget."

John nodded slowly, reaching behind him for the vodka knowing it was her drink of choice when irritated. As he measured it out, he noted her continued attempts to get herself under control. "Want to talk about it?"

"Men are bloody wankers and I have the worst luck." She laughed somewhat self-consciously.

"You just..." he started.

"If you say anything about me not having met the right one, I swear I will throw this in your face," she interrupted, shaking her glass at him.

"Right, shutting up now." John glanced away, mind going back to the one night, the one perfect night with Rose Tyler, skin and lips and breathy moans.

"Sorry," Rose chewed the edge of her thumb, "it's just what my mum says to me all the time. And this new bloke, he doesn't even bother to show up. He was supposed to be the one, take me away from everything, you know?"

John shrugged noncommittally. He was pretty sure he'd already met "the one" and she'd told him afterwards it had been a mistake. He wondered briefly what it was that this new bloke had that he didn't. Rose was watching him keenly now and he wasn't sure he liked the understanding in her eyes so he tipped some more vodka in her glass before smiling thinly and moving away to cut off Gabriel Sneed for the night. He wasn't bitter, he wasn't, not really. Okay, maybe he was a little. Just a tad, a hair, a smidge! 

Rose hadn't actually drunk much that one perfect, glorious, fantastic night. She was legally sober and perfectly consenting so he hadn't taken advantage of her, that wasn't his modus operandi anyway. She'd come in broken-hearted because she'd dumped her boyfriend, or he'd dumped her? Honestly, he hadn't been that clear on the details, just that Rickey was finally out of the picture and he could express an interest. She had taken him up on his interest, enthusiastically, heartily, multiple times in fact. And he'd woken up the next morning to a cold bed and a note about a "mistake" and "too soon" and a bunch of other apologetic words that he promptly tore up and flushed down the toilet. It still hurt, especially when she came in here like this.

When he finally meandered back down to Rose's end of the counter, she'd had a lot more to drink. He rounded angrily on his assistant Martha, demanding to know what the hell had possessed her to keep filling up her glass. Martha threw her hands up in defense - this was a drinking establishment, it was kind of what they did. He glared at her, but conceded the point, technically she could keep drinking until she was noticeably drunk, and if there was one thing he knew about Rose Tyler, it was that she could hold her liquor. 

It was near closing when he made his way back to where she was seated, slumped in the stool, head buried in her arms.

"Rose, hey, you got someone I can call?" he asked her softly, barely resisting the urge to reach out and touch her shoulder. 

"Nah, I'm good." She wearily raised her head and blinked. "S'not far from here."

"Sorry, sweetheart, can't let you drive." He winced at the accidental endearment, but she didn't appear to have noticed. He went on hastily. "Or walk. It's late and there are a lot of unsavory characters out there. Unsavory is a weird word to describe people, you know. Why does it matter if people are savory, I'm not eating them."

"You gonna protect me?" Rose's head flopped to one side as she regarded him. "Make sure I'm safe. Like my knight? My own personal knight?"

"Something like that." He came around the edge of the counter and caught her arm, helping her off the stool. Yelling over his shoulder to Martha that he was headed out and could she please close up, he guided Rose through the maze of tables and chairs. She slumped against him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder so he bore most of her weight.

Once they reached the street, he looked down at her, or rather, at the top of her head. "Where do you live, Rose?"

"Um, that way." She untangled her fingers from his jacket and vaguely motioned to the east. 

"Where, exactly, that way?" he asked as gently as he could.

"Just, just go and it'll be there." She nodded against his chest and he tried not to notice how it pressed her breasts further into him. 

Shaking his head in mild exasperation, he turned them the other direction. "Let's just go back to my place. It's closer."

"Your place? I was there." 

"You were," he agreed lightly, "but this won't be like that time."

"Why not?" she whined. "I had fun."

John couldn't think of anything to say to that. He did want to discuss that night with her, well, sort of, well, okay, no he did not want to discuss that night with her. And he very much did not want to discuss it when she was drunk. 

"Didn't you?" she slurred.

"Didn't I, what?" If he could confuse her, maybe she would forget what they were talking about.

"Have fun? With me? I had fun. You were fun. I thought you liked me. Think you like me." She tapped his thigh, a few centimeters beyond the bounds of propriety, and he jumped.

"I had fun," he agreed guardedly. It was true, he did have fun. It was the single most fantastic night that he could recall.

"But you didn't ever say anything else." She sounded like a lost puppy.

He didn't have a good reply and he focused on getting them safely the last few steps to his doorway. Maneuvering the stairs to his flat was a tricky endeavor because she didn't seem capable of standing under her own power for more than a few seconds at a time. Finally they were safely inside and he escorted her to the sofa, helping her to sit down before going to the kitchen for a glass of water.

He returned to where she was slumped sideways and carefully maneuvered her to a lying position, slipping a pillow under her head and draping a blanket over her. Grabbing a bin from the side of the room, he put it on the floor by her head.

"Here's water. You should drink that now, if you can. There's a bin in case you puke. Loo's through there, don't know if you remember. Um..." he trailed off as he stared down at her. Rose was curled up on her side under the blanket, blonde hair was strewn over the pillow like a halo, her eyes looking up at him with so much trust it hurt. "I'm going to bed. You can call if you need anything, if you want. Walls are thin, I'll hear you. Hear everything in here, you can. Neighbors going at it like rabbits. Anyway. Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck, turning away from the sofa and the beautiful temptation that was one Rose Tyler.

"John." 

"Yeah?" He swung back around.

"I wanted you to call," she said tentatively.

He stared at her, unsure of how to respond. "But you..." He gestured vaguely towards his front door.

"Left my number. Said I needed time. Kept waiting for you to call." Her voice was trailing off and her eyes were closing. "Really wanted you to call." 

"Rose." John took a step forward to...he didn't know what, but was stopped by a light snore. He stood and looked at her, chuckling softly to himself in disbelief. Crossing the distance between them, he eased her feet out of her shoes and pulled the blanket to her chin before turning and heading for his bedroom. He had no idea if she'd even be there in the morning, but he knew that next time, he would call.

(She was still there in the morning. And for nearly every single one after that.)


End file.
